Then did the devil come to me and whisper: "Of what use is it to have patience and faith? Does thy God bear thee in mind--or is his memory like that of the Prince thy father served? Dost thou still believe that He doeth all things well, and is there still trust in thy heart? Come, make friends of those who would aid thee--never mind a little lie! Wouldst be happy? Wouldst save thy dear love? Then cease thy vain prayers and take thy fate in thine own hands." I rose up from my knees and looked out again upon the laughing waters,--I would do this evil thing that good might come. I would act a lying part, and soil my soul, so that I and my dear love might win freedom and happiness. But I would pray no more--for I could not ask God's blessing on a lie. Then I went slowly back to where my temptress waited. "Dona Orosia," I said, "I take your offer. I am young--I would be happy; and you--you would be revenged! I am not the little fool you think me: I know you too well to believe that you would aid me out of love; I laugh at your pity; but I trust your hate!" "_Bueno_," she said. "It is enough. We understand one another,--but I must teach thee the part, or thou wilt fail." "I am not so simple, senora, I can feign love--for love's sake." "Yet I would have thee set round with thorns, my sweet. The rose that is too easy plucked is not worth wearing. And do thou give only promises and never fulfil them,--I'd baulk him of every kiss he thinks to win!" CHAPTER XVI. A day went by, and though I had become even letter-perfect in my new role I had not the chance to play it to my audience; but it came at last. It was in the long, dreamy hour of the early afternoon, when sleep comes easiest. Dona Orosia had ordered her couch to be placed in the shadiest part of the breezy garden, close against the gray stone wall. Designedly she chose the corner nearest the iron gate, through which we could command a portion of the sunny street; and here she lay and made me sing to her all the songs I knew, the while she dozed and waked again, and whiles teased her parrot into uttering discordant cries until for very anger I would sing no more. Suddenly she laid aside her petulance, and with a quick, imperious gesture bade me take up the lute again; then, falling back among her pillows, she closed her eyes and let her bosom rise and fall with the gentle breathings of a sleeping child. I hesitated in some astonishment; but again the sharp command hissed from her softly parted lips,-- "Sing, little fool!--Melinza passes!" I touched the lute with shaking fingers and lifted my trembling voice. The notes stuck in my throat and came forth huskily at first; but then I thought on my dear love in his hateful prison, and I sung as I had never sung before.